The camping trip (Bamon, s6)
by chiaroscurosmuse
Summary: Bonnie Bennett is done with the monotony of May 10, 1994, so she makes a plan to get away for a while. Leave it up to the resident vamp to make things just a little more challenging than they need to be...(Rated T for a little bit of strong language.) Oh, and I absolutely don't own TVD or its characters, just the idea for this story. COMPLETE!
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hello fanfic friends! This one is gonna be a three-ish chapter bit. Bamon, of course, dahlings. It takes place during season 6, before Kai comes into the picture. Bamon gotta do some exploring and get closer…read and review, my pets. I love me some reviews, did I mention that?**

 **Oh, and hold the phone. TVD and its characters are not owned by me, for if it were, things would have gotten spicy between D & B, and they'd have walked off into the sunset together. I just write it like I like it.**

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Bonnie Bennett had had enough. Each day the same: The same sunshine, the same birds chirping, the same flowers blooming, the same television shows, the same music on the radio. Even the same fucking newspaper. God, what she wouldn't give for just a different crossword puzzle, or maybe a sudoku. Did 1994 even have sudoku? Apparently not Mystic Falls' Tribune. She had tired of it all. She could swear that even the dust motes dancing in the sunlight were the same until she breezed into the room.

And so she made her way into the kitchen one morning, road atlas in hand. Throwing it down on the table with a loud smack, she announced, "We are going on a road trip. Pack a bag."

Damon Salvatore was in his vibe. As usual, Salt n' Pepa's "Whatta Man" was playing from the CD player, and he bopped around the kitchen, pancakes almost done cooking. A stack topped with home-made blueberry syrup and freshly whipped cream was in the center of the counter. Warmed maple syrup waited in a small porcelain jug. He had even picked some fresh flowers from the boarding house garden.

"But I made a special breakfast, Witchy! It's the three-month anniversary of our arrival here-I figured we could use a little celebration to congratulate ourselves for not going batshit crazy." _Did he look a little wild-eyed_? Bonnie wondered. _We can't afford a crazy Damon. I'd be screwed. No, we'd be screwed._

"Okay, first eat. Then pack bags. We need a tent and some sleeping gear." Bonnie was all business, tucking her bobbed hair behind her ear. Giving Damon a reluctant smile, she sat down in front of her plate. Damon, who wore a "feed the vamp" apron, placed three pancakes on her plate. Looking down, Bonnie was relieved to see they did not have his annoying, but signature, vampire smiles. Bonnie drowned them a little bit in maple syrup and dug in. She chewed happily.

"Glad to see you're enjoying the pancakes, Bon-bon. I could've made your favorite vamp-cakes, but I ran out of blueberries when I made the topping. Sorry." He smirked and sat down with his coffee-cup of warmed blood.

"Aren't you going to have any, Killer? They're delicious today. I will definitely have seconds." Bonnie had demolished the first stack and was about to take three more.

"Nope, all for you. I'm just going to have a bourbon when I'm done here," Damon indicated the mug in front of him, "or maybe two."

"But we're going on a camping trip, Damon. Don't get drunk. It'll ruin my plans."

"That's the _reason_ why I need a couple of bourbons. I hate camping. But in the spirit of celebration, I'll do it for you, _Judgey_." Damon stood up and made his way to the library for the Maker's Mark that was calling him.

Half an hour later, the vampire and his witch were cruising along. Bonnie was going to milk this celebratory mood for all it was worth. She managed to convince Damon that she should drive the sky-blue Camaro, top down-Damon had been drinking (four bourbons, not two), and plus, she knew where they were going. And Damon hated taking directions, but he loved giving them. And so he sat with the road atlas, occasionally reminding Bonnie of where she needed to go.

The Shenandoah Valley was gorgeous on May 10, 1994. Bonnie wondered if they'd be able to see the eclipse from there. Probably, if the sky was not too blocked by trees. She wondered if the weather would be perfect. It would be a welcome change if their campsite had had a rainstorm on that day. Or maybe a heatwave-they could go swimming. She forgot to check the paper to see if the weather report had any information.

"Okay Witchy, you gotta get on I-81 now." Damon was staring at the map intently. His long index finger traced the route. "Yeah, that exit there." He pointed to the green highway sign that read I-81 South.

"But wait, I thought we had to go I-81 North? It says, Shenandoah Valley." Bonnie was irritated. She just knew that Damon had something up his sleeve.

"I want to take the scenic route, Witchy. We're celebrating, remember?" Damon pulled down his shades, pushed his seat back, and put his feet up on the dash as best he could. He looked uncomfortable, but still managed to make it work. "Just stay on this road until I tell you."

"Oh, okay. I guess I can make one concession since you haven't otherwise given me trouble." Bonnie sighed and kept her eyes on the road.

An hour later, Damon still hadn't given Bonnie any further instructions. The sun was still shining, and the road stretched out ahead, sometimes forest-lined, sometimes broken by little farms here and there. She was so caught up in the scenery that she neglected to notice other, perhaps more important things. Then she saw the sign. "Welcome to Blacksburg," it read, "the home of Virginia Tech!" Bonnie was livid. Blacksburg was in Southern Virginia. Way too far south.

"Damon!" No response. Bonnie looked over and saw him still lounging, lips parted in what appeared to be sleep. She thought that she saw the hint of a signature smirk touch the corner of his full lips. God, he was too perfect for words.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer, Bon-bon."

Bonnie brought the Camaro to a screeching halt right in the middle of the road. She could hear the almost silent mirth that was bubbling up from Damon's traitorous throat.

"I'll get us where we need to go, so before you try to hurl verbal or physical abuse at your favorite vamp and best friend, I'd suggest you take a breath and simmer down." Damon hadn't moved a muscle. He was scarily still and sounded pretty serious. Bonnie took a breath and then opened the car door.

Damon opened his eyes when he realized that they weren't moving. He looked west down the high way, and when he didn't see the witch, he looked east. There she was, toting her backpack and water bottle. He sped to her.

"Damnit, Bon-bon, where are you going?" She ignored him and kept walking.

"Please come back to the car," Damon whined, tugging on her arm. She pulled it away.

"Come on, Bon, why are you going back?"

"Because you hijacked _my_ camping trip. Because you didn't even ask me. Because I trusted you like the foolish girl I am. I thought we'd have fun in Shenandoah, but _noooo_. Damon had to make it about him, because Damon is the _center of the universe_ , and Bonnie can just suck it up!" She huffed and puffed and kept walking. But then she hit a wall of tight black t-shirt and sandalwood. She looked up into piercing blue eyes.

"Bonnie, I just wanted to take you to the most awesome place ever. I thought I'd trick you and it'd be an amazing surprise." He ran an impatient hand through raven's wing hair. _Even tousled it's perfect_ , Bonnie thought. _Wait, am I_ blushing _? No way. This is_ not _happening_. Bonnie recovered and walked right around Damon.

She kept to the right side of the highway now, even though there were no cars, and there would never be. She had grabbed the atlas, so at least she could find a safe place for the night at a National Parks Ranger Station or something. Maybe then she could get some camping in, even if it was by herself. And damnit, she was going to enjoy herself. She had even picked up a bag of marshmallows from the cupboard, so she could have the full outdoors experience. The one she remembered from the few times her dad had time to take her, when she was really young, before Abby left.

Damon ran back to the car and turned it around. He revved the engine and made his way to the angry witch. He had to make this right, otherwise she might be mad for a long time. And they had made it this far along without any major incident-he didn't know how he'd do if she stopped talking to him for an extended period of time, or heaven forbid, left Mystic Falls to seek out more interesting places.

"Okay Bonnie. If I take you back to Shenandoah, will you forgive me? Write this one off as 'Damon was a jerk and won't ever hijack Bonnie's plans again?' I'll throw in a Hershey's bar with almonds and some graham crackers…" Bonnie turned around. "…and a thirty-minute foot rub…" She glared at him, her green eyes narrowed. "…and a whole week's worth of TV control." At this, her face softened a little. She touched the side of her nose, pulled her earlobe, and then rubbed her hands together.

"What's that, some sort of strange witchy baseball code?" Damon painted on a hopeful smile. Bonnie nodded.

"Yep, it means, 'Put me in, coach, I'm gonna make Bonnie TV week a living hell for you!'" She hopped into the car and buckled up. She held the atlas tightly in her hands.

Damon reached around her shoulders and gave her a little squeeze. He kissed the side of her head. "We are going to make the best s'mores you've ever tasted, Witchy. Marshmallows all perfectly toasted and gooey, chocolate dripping. We could have some real fun with that if you'd let me put som-Ow!" Bonnie punched Damon in the shoulder.

"Okay, okay. They'll be awesome cause I've brought the bourbon with, does that sound good?"

"Only if you let me toast the marshmallows. I get them perfect every time, all golden brown, no burned bits-"

"But that's the best part! The burned sugar is so crunchy and good." Damon rubbed his shoulder and looked forlorn for a second before he gave Bonnie his hundred-watt smile. She could never resist a genuine Damon smile, and this one was the sweetest.

"Okay," she gave in, "I'll burn a few, but only cause it's you." She leaned her head on his shoulder as they sped down the I-81, going north this time, toward the Shenandoah National Park.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Here I am once again, with some Bamon goodness (I hope!). There can never be too much Bamon. Never. This chapter is a little filler, before getting to the good stuff. At this rate, we may have two more chapters to go, but let's see where the trail leads for our favorite campers. (In case you were wondering, I totally made up those book titles, except for the Kinsey, so I have no idea whether they really exist...) And oh, if you like it, or even if you don't so much, give it some review love. Thanks to those of you who have left comments for chapter 1!**

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When they arrived at the campsite Bonnie had chosen, dusk had already fallen. Bonnie was surprised to find that she wasn't more disappointed about missing the eclipse. Part of her wanted to see it from a different angle, but part of her was just glad for the change of scenery. To forget it was always the 10th of May, 1994.

In a moment of thoughtfulness, Damon used his vamp speed to set up the tents and gather firewood. Bonnie would have been happy to help, but sitting in the car for an extra three hours had worn her out, not to mention the drama Damon caused earlier. She figured he was just making up for the stress he caused her, and she appreciated this subtle show of apology.

With an exaggerated sigh, Damon swiped his hand across his forehead and plopped down by the fire pit. He had even started the fire, with one match, no less. Bonnie was impressed. She was terrible with starting non-magic fires, surprisingly. The other parts of camping she was good at. People were often shocked to learn that she was an experienced outdoorswoman. Even though she was in touch with nature as a witch, no one knew that she could survive for an extended period of time in the woods. So Bonnie took a little tour of Damon's work, assessing its quality. She was impressed.

"For someone who hates camping, you're quite skilled, Killer," she complimented the vampire, who smirked.

"Yeah, I said I hated camping, not that I didn't know how to do it well, Witchy." He crossed his legs at the ankles and cradled the back of his head in his hands. "Hey, so what's for din, Bon-bon?"

"Um, well, I thought we could go fishing, but all chance of that was lost when we took a two hour detour courtesy of Damon Salvatore." She shook her head. "But luckily for me, I am always prepared for the worst." She pulled a few cans of pork and beans from her bag, along with a set of camp pots. She set the largest pot on the grill over the fire and opened the cans. After dumping their contents into the pot, she produced a metal ladle and stirred.

Damon observed the whole process with an unexpected sense of pride. His witch was resourceful, planned ahead, and the light of the fire was making her skin glow and her green eyes shine. She was gorgeous, he had to admit. She wa-

"Wait, wait, wait." Damon broke into his own wayward thoughts with a little more enthusiasm than necessary. _Wow, was I just thinking about how beautiful she is?_ "Where are the marshmallows?" He reached for her pack and started rummaging through it. He pulled out a couple of books. "'Woodsman's Guide to Identifying Mushrooms'? 'Fishing in Virginia's Ponds and Lakes'? 'The Forager's Handbook'? Are you serious, Bon-bon? Or should I call you Sylvan Friend?" Damon chuckled. Bonnie scowled in his direction but didn't deign to reply. And then he pulled out the last book in her bag. "'The Kinsey Report: Sexual Behavior in the Human Female'? What the actual fuck, Bonnie?"

"What, can't a girl catch up on her sex-ed?" Bonnie rushed up, trying valiantly to prevent a blush from darkening her brown cheeks. She was unsuccessful. She grabbed the book from the vampire. "Damon, I'm human. I have _needs_ , most of which are definitely not getting satisfied. There's only so much solo work that can be done. And ain't nobody gonna help a girl with that around he-wait, don't say it. Just don't say it. Stop." Bonnie could see Damon's eyebrows waggle a bit, and the smirk form around his full lips. They were luscious, and she had to look away, so the blush wouldn't spread further.

"Oh, come on, _Bon_. We're both consenting adults around here, right? Some more adult than others but consenting nevertheless. And why would you bring that book along anyways, given the fact that, well, you know, _me_?"

"I actually forgot it was in my pack, _Damon_. And actually, there is such a thing as _privacy_. And that means that you don't go rummaging through a person's things without asking first." Bonnie hugged the offending book to her chest and stomped away.

"Don't be immature, Judgey." Damon got up and walked after her to the tent. "I promise I won't do it again. It's just been such a day and I wasn't really thinking." Damon touched her shoulder to turn her around. "Hey, do you want that foot rub now?"

Bonnie sighed, resigned to the inevitability that she'd have to forgive Damon yet again, just so that she could have a stress-free night. How many times had she done that? It wasn't just the sacrificing of magical energies that she made to help save her friends, it was the sacrifice of her anger and frustration. She could never just be angry and get over it in her own time. She always had to forgive so that she wouldn't feel guilty for feeling mad. And that was the hardest part. Sure, she was always taught to turn the other cheek, that to forgive was the best thing you could do for yourself. But really, all that forgiveness could weigh on a person's shoulders until they sagged irreversibly. But she straightened herself and turned around to face the vampire.

"Alright, alright. I could use a foot rub, but not now. I want to eat and go to sleep." Her eyes dared Damon to say anything snarky or smarmy. It seemed that he got the picture, because he nodded and went back to the fire pit. He pulled a tin plate from the kitchen bag and served up the pork and beans, which he handed to Bonnie with a spoon. She sat, quietly chewing, keeping her eyes on her plate. She ate methodically, taking a sip of water after every few bites. Her robotic behavior irritated Damon.

"Oh, come _on_ , Judgey! I found a stupid book in your pack. I teased you a bit. Get over it. You're here, you're human, you're sexually frustrated. It happens to the best of us. How do you think _I_ feel? Having to stare at the only woman on earth, the most beautiful woman on earth, day in and day out, knowing that she's too honorable to do anything but read sexy books and give herself relief? Knowing that I'm a jerk for even thinking that she could be anything more than just my best friend? God, you're so self-centered!" Damon's face turned red with frustration, and his icy blue eyes flashed fire.

Bonnie sat for a moment, surprised by his outburst. His words washed over her like a flash flood, and it took a beat for her to comprehend what he said. When she did, her jaw dropped a little bit, her lips parted slightly. She didn't know what to say or do. She decided it would be wise to take a breath before she replied. And as she breathed, she decided that she would ignore most of what Damon said.

"Damon, you're absolutely right. I was overly sensitive. I _am_ overly sensitive. Being here, in this alternate universe, the same day over and over again, is _exhausting_. But I'm only thinking about how exhausting it is for me right now. Of course, I know it's hell on you as well. I promise I'll try to be more understanding and less judgmental about minor issues." She looked at him and then pointed at her pack. "The marshmallows are in the front pocket. Now what about that Hershey's Almond bar?" She smiled at him hopefully.

"Okay. I'm gonna make you the best, most chocolatey s'more you've ever had."

"Yeah, you mentioned that earlier today. I mean, I think you gave me the recipe several times." Bonnie laughed. Damon felt that all was right with the world when she did, like some balance had been reset.

In the back of his mind and the depth of his heart, he couldn't ignore the fact that she purposely _didn't_ acknowledge his confession. He knew she heard it. He heard her heart speed up when he spoke, and it wasn't the pitter patter of fear, anger or irritation. Any vampire worth his salt could tell the difference easily. It was the lub dub of love.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: This chapter is a little filler-ish, I must admit. I guess a little character development? Check it. Love, like or not, hit me with some of those thoughtful reviews, cause you _know_ I will cherish them like the homicidal vampire cherishes his witch.**

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The early morning gloom was just bright enough to bathe Bonnie's eyelids in unwelcome light. Apparently, Damon forgot to close the tent flap, so not only did mosquitoes get in during the night, Bonnie was woken up at the ungodly hour of 6 AM. The official sunrise would not happen for another eight minutes, so being as she was already awake, she might as well enjoy it.

Well, at least she thought she could. However, a certain vampire had also made sure that he blocked the path to the tent exit. _Damnit, Damon_ , Bonnie thought, _If I can't sleep and I can't watch the sunrise, what_ am _I gonna do?_

"No good morning kiss, Pumpkin?" Damon rolled over, his pale white torso squeezing out of the sleeping bag like a sausage. He struggled unsuccessfully to pull his arms out. "Hey, where's the zipper on this thing, Bon? I can't free myself. A little help here, Witchy?" He looked over hoping for some sympathy, but all he got was a smirk.

"Hah. You want me to help? You leave the tent flap open, so I can't sleep in and get feasted upon by at least a hundred mosquitoes, you lie right in front of it so I can't leave, and you want _me_ to help _you_? Unlikely."

"Come on, Bon-bon. The mosquitoes are only proving the point I've made all along: You are scrumptious. A hundred bites ain't nothin' on what I'd do if you'd just let me have a taste." Bonnie stepped over Damon in the least graceful way possible on her way out of the tent. She even managed to nick his ribs with her toe, which elicited an indignant grunt from the vampire.

When Damon finally managed to rip his sleeping bag open, Bonnie was already boiling water for coffee. Damon pulled two blood bags from his pack and stuck them in the pot to warm up.

"Well gosh, Killer, that's disgusting. Now I'm going to have to boil some fresh water for the coffee."

"Oh dear, Martha Stewart, it's just plastic in the water. Absolutely no blood will leech through, I _promise_." Damon grabbed his bags out, bit into the plastic tube of one, and drank in generous pulls. "Too bad I forgot my favorite cup at home-I would totally add the last of the bourbon. That would be the _perfect_ start to my day." He sighed, his eyes rolled upward in mock contentment.

"Oh, you mean _this_ mug?" Bonnie dangled the chipped porcelain monstrosity in black and red in front of the vampire. "The one into which I am about to put worms for fishing today?" She chuckled. "Now _that_ would be the perfect start to this day-getting back at you for everything that has happened." She stomped off into the woods to find a dirt pile. Maybe she'd find some big, fat night crawlers.

" _Witchy_ , I'm warning you! If one tiny bit of worm slime touches my precious blood mug, you will never see Mystic Falls, in this universe or a parallel one, ever again!" Damon dropped the blood bag and sped after her.

As Bonnie walked, she felt a sudden surge of guilt. She _had_ promised Damon the night before that she would try to be less judgmental. But leaving her exposed to the elements in the forest was just not nice, even if he didn't do it on purpose. All it would have taken was a little apology. As she worried a mosquito bite, she thought back to the previous morning when he had hijacked their trip on purpose, and remembered how defeated she felt. How anything and everything she wanted for herself came in second place to others' needs and wants. She dug painfully into the bite with her nails, and it started to bleed.

Even here in this world, a world Grams had sent her to so that she could have _peace_. All Bonnie wanted was to come first, for someone, in some time, in some place. She wanted the immediate and contrite apologies. She wanted the genuine love she herself put out into the universe. She wanted to be wanted.

And as she thought back to Damon, something clicked. The hours she spent trying to make him see her point of view, and the effort she put into pulling him out of his moody funks. The time she enjoyed goofing off with him, drinking bourbon straight up, watching the videos in the boarding house over and over again. Reading books together and discussing their merits. She truly loved being around Damon. And if he weren't trying to be true to Elena-if she weren't so set on being Elena's best friend-maybe things would be different? Bonnie looked at the drops of blood that were beading up on her arm. She wiped them away with her index finger, which she stuck in her mouth. The taste was salty and ferrous, and maybe even a bit sweet.

If Bonnie were being truthful with herself, she knew that Damon was truly under her skin, and not in an I-hate-you-and-you-keep-getting-on-my-nerves-and-I-want-to-kill-you kind of way. It was more of an I-have-to-keep-you-at-arms'-length-because-I-maybe-want-to-snuggle-you-and-keep-you-forever kind of way. And if she acknowledged Damon's round-about confession last night, he maybe felt the same way too. _What am I going to do about this_? Before she had time to think any further, she was lifted unceremoniously into the air by strong but surprisingly gentle arms.

"Okay _Witchy_ , give me the damn mug. You know how I cherish it. On this day in the real 1994, it breaks. But now, I get to use it. And it reminds me of how I did terrible things and how I deserve a much worse fate than this prison world." He carefully removed the clean and unscathed cup from Bonnie's hand. But he still didn't put her down. In fact, he held her closer as he walked through the woods back to the campsite.

His chin rested on her silky bob. _I wonder what her real hair is like_? Damon thought to himself. Her weave smelled like human hair, but he knew it wasn't hers because the base notes of the scent were foreign. He could smell her real hair underneath-cornrowed carefully, he was sure. Damon had seen plenty of black women getting their hair done, changing wigs, struggling with the challenges of trying to make their unique beauty fit into the square peg of white conventions. Being on earth for almost two centuries made a person reevaluate what beauty is, and Damon, in spite of what people thought, had learned to appreciate all types of pretty. There was no doubt that Bonnie Bennett was beautiful, inside and out.

Bonnie gave in and let out the breath she had been holding since Damon picked her up. Once they reached the campsite, he put her down on top of the two sleeping rolls, bags, and pillows, which he had arranged into a makeshift divan inside the tent. He took the two towels and placed them in a roll under her knees. Then he pulled off her socks.

The only way to describe the next thirty minutes was heavenly. Bonnie knew that Damon gave a pretty mean foot rub-she had received endless praise about them from Elena, and even Caroline had a few complimentary remarks about them. But Bonnie had never had the pleasure of receiving one until now. And, well, both Elena and Caroline had not done him justice with their words. Damon had magical fingers, long and graceful. They were strong and supple, firm and gentle. It was clear that he was following a ritual, but somehow the strokes within the form felt unique and partially improvised. Bonnie never saw any lotion or oil, but Damon's hands never slipped or stuck on her feet. Bonnie nearly cried with relief-she felt like all the tension and sadness and anger and frustration and hopelessness that she had been holding in was being released by the tenderness of Damon's massage.

And then she _was_ crying. It wasn't like the crying she did in the bedroom of the boarding house when she thought Damon was out or asleep. That was angry crying, that was sad crying. It was loud and wailing crying. This crying was cleansing. It was silent. The tears welled up in her eyes, escaped from between her lashes and slid down her cheeks to her ears and down her jaw. Her neck was wet, and the pillows behind her head soaked up the excess of her emotions.

Damon could smell the salt, but he didn't stop. He focused on putting his own feelings-the ones for Bonnie-into the strokes applied to her tender feet and toes. He wanted her to know how sorry he was and how he appreciated her. But beyond that, and more importantly, he wanted her to feel his growing love. Soon he heard her breathing slow, and he knew that she was asleep. So he stopped, covered her up, and left the tent, making sure to zip the flap closed.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: *peeks from behind curtain* well, hello there, lovelies! just working a little bit of what i hope is witchy writing juju while y'all have been doing your thang...and while i've been catching up with life. these two, our favorite duo, wouldn't let me be! in fact, they were on a campaign to work out all their own story-lines and character arcs relentlessly. and so here it is. i know i said this would be three-to-four chapters, but i think it'll be at least one more, mone more for sure. so, without furhter ado, i return you to the bamonlicious drama that is my version of tvd!**

 **and yup, you're right, I own nothing but the drama on this one!**

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Bonnie sighed. She had just had the most amazing dream. It involved a tongue and erogenous zones, but whose tongue, which erogenous zones, and to whom they belonged was not clear. Not that it mattered-it was a dream so delicious she wanted to sink right back in and pick up where she left off. But the afternoon sun was shining into the tent's clear dome, so she opened her eyes reluctantly. The tops of evergreen trees were so tall and seemed to make a perfect circle in the sky, bordering a patch of blue so bright and perfect it reminded her of Damon's eyes.

 _Wait. Hold up. What the fuck just happened?_ Bonnie thought to herself. Damon had tucked her all in, closed the tent, and left her to bask in some pretty damned amazing sleep, after giving her the best foot massage she'd ever had. Not orgasmic, but as close as one could get.

Bonnie sat up, rubbing her eyes and then stretching lazily. Forget about Damon. _He's screwing with me, as usual._ Bonnie would go fishing, but first, some mosquito bite care was in order. She pulled out a little tin of salve she found in Grams' house the week before, and dabbed the sweet smelling concoction on all the swelling bites she could reach. She whispered a little rhyme Grams had taught her, passed down by generations of Bennetts, maybe even starting with Emily.

"One fish, two fish, three fish, four,

I'm goin' out fishin', catchin' five or more;

Six fish, seven fish, eight, nine, ten,

Cookin' 'em, eatin' 'em, goin' fishin' again!"

After pulling on her Keens, Bonnie found that Damon had beat her to it; right by the tent was a plastic cup full to the brim with dark soil and wriggling earthworms, fat and pink. Bonnie smiled and picked it up along with the fishing pole and bucket nearby.

Whistling softly, she made her way to the pond. She could hear sounds of leaves rustling as she got closer and wondered whether Damon had caught any big ones yet.

But she never in a million years would have imagined the sight that met her eyes. Her mouth dropped briefly at a scene that would have sent other people screaming for their cars without a second look. But Bonnie quickly snapped her jaw closed and then sighed. "I don't even want to know," she said grimly, as she made to turn back for the campsite.

" _Really,_ Bon, if I had known you'd be up so soon, I would have made this a lot quicker," an equally grim-faced but twinkly-eyed Damon replied. With one hand, he held up a small brown bear by the neck. In the other gore-covered hand was the heart of said bear. His shirt was ruined by blood and shredded in places, revealing already-healing scratches. Damon's eyes, still red and framed by wriggling black veins, were the only things not painted with bear blood.

After allowing Bonnie a moment to take in the scene fully, he continued: "I came down to fish, just like we planned. I thought I might be able to catch a few before you woke up and surprise you. But then I noticed something strange. I couldn't see any fish in the water, and couldn't hear any, even with my SuperVamp ™* hearing. So I came back to the campsite, got my towel, and decided to take a dip to see what was going on underwater. This little excursion confirmed my guess that there were no fish to be seen. Everything else is beautiful down there, but no fish. _Soooo_ strange." Damon waved the hand holding the heart around to illustrate his points. Bonnie stood, her eyebrows inching their way up with each moment, her green irises slowly got larger and larger until the pupils were just pinpoints.

" _Anywhooo,_ " Damon was totally oblivious to Bonnie's response, "After I put my clothes back on, I heard a rustling in the woods. Before I could really react, this here _bear_ came charging out of _nowhere,_ for absolutely _no_ reason. So we had ourselves a little wrestle, and yours truly seems to have come out on top." Damon smiled broadly at the lolling bear, "And what a delicious victory. Bear blood is actually not bad, maybe because it's a bigger creature?" Damon rambled on and on, while Bonnie tuned him out. Covered in blood, in his element, Damon seemed so relaxed, and well, normal, aside from all the red. No grumpiness, no snark. Bonnie had actually never seen him so happy, and that concerned her. In fact, she was worried about herself, because she was feeling turned on by this Damon. Not the "older sexy-danger-guy" Damon, but the "I'm-happy-with-being-a-vampire" Damon. Bonnie shook her head slightly to come to her senses again.

"Okay, look, Damon," she interrupted his monologue, "I'm going to leave this bucket and my hunting knife here. You do with the bear what you will-but cut some steaks. I'll go back to the campsite and get butcher paper and the box of coarse salt I always keep for witch emergencies, so that we can wrap the meat up. I'll also bring the shovel so you can bury the bear after you're done." She put the bucket and her knife on the ground, readjusted her fishing pole, turned on her heel and left.

Damon's jaw dropped in amazement. _That woman is amazing._ He set to work, draining the bear's blood and cutting some good-sized steaks. By the time Bonnie returned with the other supplies, he had managed to wash himself in the pond, and stood, towel wrapped low on his hips, admiring the view of the other side of the water.

"All-righty. Here's the stuff," Bonnie dropped everything unceremoniously near the bucket of blood. "I also brought you some clean clothes." She tossed a bag in Damon's general direction and once again retreated. Damon knew she was mad again, but it was a cold anger, simmering like liquid nitrogen, condensing quickly in the air. He was glad she left because frankly, he was on a high, and didn't want her killing his vibe.

When Damon returned to the campsite, everything was packed up. Bonnie was nowhere to be seen, but her bags were neatly arranged by the firepit, which she had doused with water to ensure no coals were left burning. The cooler was there, so Damon emptied the bucket of blood into some extra plastic baggies he found inside. After placing them and the salted-and-wrapped bear steaks inside, he loaded himself up and headed to the car.

Bonnie was there, reading the National Parks noticeboard. "Oh, you know, there's a reason why there are no fish, Killer," Bonnie said without turning around, "A few years back, the water was so contaminated that the Parks Service had to shut this area down to clean the pond. A little while back, they reopened the area, but they still hadn't introduced fish back into the ecosystem, so that's why." She faced him with a thin smile. "Let's just go, okay. I guess this just wasn't meant to be. So back to Mystic Falls 2.0 and my TV marathon, which will be comprised of Cosby Show and Family Ties reruns and regular viewings of The Bodyguard."

"Okay, Bonnie, if that's what you want." The wheels in Damon's head were turning. Maybe he could still enact Plan A, the one that had caused all the trouble in the first place. _All it takes is a little persistence,_ he thought, _and she'll see how I really feel._ Damon stood for a few minutes, taking in the surrounding woods, feeling good about the bear blood in his stomach, the joy of the outdoor life he hated so much back when he was a Confederate soldier so many eons ago. A bothersome voice in the back of his mind pecked at him though: _How and what do you really feel, Damon Salvatore? Friendship, of course, deep friendship,_ he immediately answered. _Or is it something else?_ Damon wasn't completely sure of the answer to that question.

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 ***SuperVamp(TM) is not really my trademark, i actually have no idea if anyone else has used it...but damon wanted to TM it in this story! review, review, please, it'll make me a better writer, for sure!**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** well, betchy'all thought it would take me a good while to put up the next chappy, but here it is my fellow bamonistas! this is the wrap- up to our vampire and his fav witch's adventure in the prison world. yeah, and absolutely NO kai parker in sight, but there is the possibility that i might pick up this story again and explore the idea of the cure hiding out on that creepy island someday...

and as usual, i own only the storyline, 'cause if i created bonnie and damon, they'd be together fo-evah!

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Damon looked over at Bonnie, who had been staring out of the window for the past twenty minutes. Her eyes looked like they were ready to close, which was good. Damon had suggested they take a scenic route home, and since Bonnie never replied, he took it as a tacit agreement. Shenandoah Valley was gorgeous at this time of the late afternoon, with the sun streaming through the trees. Occasionally they'd spot some movement in the woods on either side. Damon wondered if it were another bear, or perhaps some deer. _Stefan would love it here,_ Damon smirked to himself as he thought of his brother.

Slight snoring from the passenger seat confirmed that Bonnie was out, black bob covering her left cheek and eye. Gently brushing the hair from her soft brown skin, Damon cheered internally because he could carry out his plan. He kept driving.

And as he drove, he suddenly found himself in the middle of a vision. What he saw scared him, and Damon was not often scared. _There's definitely something about this place. Sheila must be warning us from the Great Beyond. I wonder has Bonnie had any premonitions…_ He shook himself and pulled into a nearby convenience stop. After he filled the tank with gas and picked up a few food items, he hit the road again, thanking the stars that Bonnie was still sleeping.

Several hours later, as the sun had just sunk below the horizon, Damon pulled the Camaro up to a trail head in Tennessee. A sign announced their location, and Damon felt a smile grace his lips as he recalled the last time he had been there. It had been over seventy-five years ago, maybe in the mid-1930s. People, men mostly, had snuck into the woods to have private parties. They headed there in small groups to be free of society's stigma and enjoy the company (sometimes very intimate company) of others like themselves. It was a place of warmth and romance and safety, and Damon had loved it. It was a shame that he hadn't visited in so long.

Damon left the car running in park so as not to disturb Bonnie's sleep. He didn't want her to know where they were until he'd unpacked and set up. So using his SuperVamp™ speed, he pitched the tent and lit a small fire at the campsite at the end of the trail.

When Bonnie awoke, she saw Damon running up to the car. She yawned.

"You shouldn't waste the gas like that, Killer," was the first thing she said to him, eyes still closed. "Bad for the environment, ya know."

Damon poked his head into the open window, elbows on the frame. "Hey, I didn't want you to wake up. And we all know how a snoring Witchy is a happy Witchy. Not to mention less Judgey in dreamland." He flashed her his trademark smirk as he pulled away and opened the car door. "Come on. Let's go."

"Where on Earth are we? Seriously Damon. Could you be any more irritating? I was looking forward to getting back to Mystic Falls and that terribly outdated television set. At least I could have some tequila, which you didn't bring with you." Bonnie frowned and then sighed as she followed Damon down the trail.

"You mean _you_ didn't bring tequila." Damon retrieved a small bottle from his hip pocket. " _I_ brought tequila. And a lime," he added, fishing it out of his other pocket. "We made a pit stop and you were still sleeping."

"Okay," Bonnie replied, "I guess you do have some redeeming qualities, Mr. Salvatore." She hooked her arm through his, leaning her head on his shoulder for a moment. They had stopped in front of the campsite.

Damon had selected a spot just a few feet away from a good-sized swimming hole. The tent opening faced the water, offering occupants an unencumbered view. The moonlight was bright on May 10, 1994 in Tennessee. Bonnie was almost speechless.

"Wow." She covered her hand with her mouth, tears threatening to well up. She couldn't believe how idyllic the scene before her was. She looked at Damon. "This is _amazing_. Where are we?"

"Doesn't matter where we are…well, actually, we're in Tennessee. What matters is that this is one of _my_ favorite places in the world. One where I came to be myself, as well as _be myself_."

"You mean you weren't worried about your vampire side here?" Bonnie clarified.

"Mmhmm," Damon replied as he gazed over the water, remembering how the men, even if not completely his type, were so accepting of his dark side. He hadn't killed any of them, afterward he wasn't sure why, but maybe it was because they were so genuine and kind. None of them had offered their blood, but Damon hadn't felt the need to feed that night. He had just _been_.

Bonnie looked at Damon and smiled. She put her had on his arm. "Wanna go for a swim?"

Damon was silent for a moment. Finally, he responded. "Are you in a place where you can listen? I have something really important to tell you."

"Ummm, sure. I'm feeling much better. Must be something special about this place because I don't feel like I wish I could still give you an aneurysm." Bonnie rolled her eyes and smiled again. Damon almost blushed because her smile was so beautiful and natural and _for him_. He turned away and walked toward the water, stripping his clothes off as he went.

Before Bonnie could protest, he leapt into the water. Damon swam to the middle of the hole, where a small floating dock had been tethered. He climbed up, flopping onto his stomach. The moonlight covered him in sparkling drops the color of tanzanite. His pale skin took on an otherworldly glow so transfixing that Bonnie gasped. He was gorgeous. And he was about to open his mouth. _I hope he doesn't ruin the moment_ , Bonnie thought as she sat silently on the rocks.

"I had a vision, Bonnie," Damon began, "and you know how strongly I believe in those kinds of things. Hell, I spent the better part of my vampirehood waiting for a cosmic event to take place. But this vision was a premonition. I saw the real Mystic Falls. I saw our friends struggling to fight some pretty horrible enemies. There were witch-vampire hybrids. Elena was under some spell that rendered her near death." He took a breath and looked down at the water.

"I was so devastated by Elena's absence that I locked myself in a coffin. I left you a note to say goodbye. You, my best friend, I left without a second thought. I wanted to desiccate until you and the rest found an antidote, a counterspell, a loophole, to break the curse. I left you alone."

Bonnie listened. Damon could hear her breathing speed up, her heartrate increase. She was holding her knees so tightly that he could even hear the sound of skin grating against fabric. Damon knew he had to finish what he was saying and quick.

"Bonnie, are you afraid of me?" he asked, looking up to meet her green eyes.

"Damon, I've been furious at you, frustrated with you, I've wanted to kill you, I've hated you, but no, I've never been afraid, except for once." she replied, her voice never wavering.

"I know. And that was when I bit you right after you tried to free Catherine. At that moment, I realized something about you, about myself." Bonnie looked at him quizzically, waiting for him to continue.

"I realized in that moment, when I sensed your fear, that _I_ was afraid of _you_. And that I had been since the moment I met you. You see, the very first time I got wind of you, Bonnie Sheila Bennett, was when I felt your magic. That raw, unused, unlearned magic inside of you scared the shit out of me. And once I got to know you it was your fearlessness-I admired that, and my admiration scared me." He took a deep breath. "I had met witches, powerful witches, before. They were always afraid of what I could do to them emotionally-how I could reel them in with my charm and use them-they were never afraid of me killing them. You, on the other hand, have never been afraid of how I could use you. You have always given of yourself, to _everyone_ , without concern for how that can damage you. And that fear of death at my hands, well, that was a one time thing that made you stronger and braver. This is why I'm so afraid of you, Bonnie. It's because I see your power, I see your bravery, I see your love. And this love is turning me into a mouse. I'm a lion, Bonnie, but you're turning me into a mouse with your love."

Bonnie gasped again, her mouth parting slightly. _What can I say to that?_ She asked herself as she pulled off her shirt and shorts. "What are you trying to say, Damon? That I'm not good for you? That we can't be friends?" She crossed her arms over her breasts, covering her heart and its ember of hope, trying to protect it from the words that would surely break it, snuff the spark out. _But I've always been able to piece my heart back together. I'm strong and resilient. If nothing else, life has shown me that_. She put on a brave face as she looked into Damon's soul.

"No, Bonnie. That's not at all what I'm trying to tell you." Damon rose up onto his elbows. "I'm trying to tell you that when I saw that vision, I realized that I didn't want that to happen. I knew with every fiber of my being that I couldn't leave you to fight alone while I desiccated for years. If that means that we don't go back to the real Mystic Falls, that we have to be here together forever, then that's what I want. I just want you. But I don't know what I'd do if you didn't want me." He looked at the moon, as if it could grant wishes.

Bonnie jumped into the water with a yell. Her arms reached out toward the sky, her legs slightly bent. She looked to Damon like an angel, and for a split second it seemed that she would hover over the water. In that instant, Damon saw another vision.

Instead of Mystic Falls and destruction, he saw Bonnie. Her eyes were the same green, her skin the same glowing brown. Her hair was curly and wild and greying. There were feathery wrinkles around her eyes as she whooped and yelled her happiness. Her breasts were less pert, but still beautiful. Her belly was rounder and laced with silvery stretch marks. She still hovered over the water, but years into the future-their future, he was sure of it. He saw himself on the dock, waiting for her. It was an older version of himself. This future looked perfect.

 _I see you, Bonnie. I see_ us _and what will be if we just stay here_ , Damon thought to himself. _This is what I want, and it all starts with me choosing you_.

Damon blinked a few uncharacteristic tears from his eyes. They rolled down his cheeks, but before he could wipe them away, Bonnie surfaced near the floating dock. Her hair was plastered against her forehead. She smelled like the woods. With one hand on the boards, she reached for a glistening drop with a forefinger and brought it to her lips.

"Damon," she said as she tasted his happiness, "I choose you, too. And if choosing my best friend means that we get to be the center of this crazy love story together, that's what I want. Maybe it doesn't mean that we can't try to find our way back, but I can be okay if we don't make it, if we're not meant to make it back to our friends. Just as long as we have each other. I know there might be rough times ahead in this strange version of the world, but at least it's ours. And no matter how much we have our ups and downs, we'll always end up back here."

 _At last, we're on the same page_. Damon looked down at his witch and smiled softly, lovingly. And then he pulled her up onto the dock. They lay there, together, just being, under the stars. And as the moon set and the sun made its way impossibly back to May 10th, 1994, Bonnie knew that the day would indeed be different.

 **FIN**

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 **A/N:** okay, yep, that's it. and maybe y'all can see where an exploration of the cure might come from later on down the line...maybe i'll write it, especially if you let me know what you think of this ending! please send me some love-and by love, i mean review, review, review!


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